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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26995213">Deuxieme</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idkcouldbe/pseuds/Idkcouldbe'>Idkcouldbe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Childhood Sexual Abuse, Dark Reylo, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Molestation, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Parent/Child Incest, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sibling Incest, Underage Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:00:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,932</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26995213</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idkcouldbe/pseuds/Idkcouldbe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Teen Ben overhears something in his younger sister’s room late at night. What he finds haunts him when he realizes too late he will only make the situation worse.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey &amp; Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Han Solo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>112</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Mind the tags.<br/>This is a dark fic with dark themes.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He heard the door sigh close, the shuffling of careful footsteps padding along the carpeted hallway. It always ended like this, with Han leaving her room in the middle of the night, his figure a barely discernable shadow marked only by the moonlight that seeped through the windows.</p><p>There was never noise from her room, no evidence of Han's visits except the specter form of him retreating to his own room after.</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
If Ben hadn't been a nightowl like his father, he would never have stumbled upon this discovery. But Ben was, like most teenagers, driven to stay up late by a rebellious denial of fatigue and a desire to escape into his alone time. It was only in the lull between night and morning that he felt bold enough to put in his ear buds while watching videos of women being used, hoping the arm slung over his face was enough to muffle his breathing as he worked his cock.</p><p>It was after one of these sessions that he, too, crept quietly through the hall, wishing not to alert anyone to his use of the bathroom. He watched Han close the door to Rey's room with a quiet grace Ben didn't know Han was still capable of, then slink away in the darkness to the room he shared with Ben's mother.</p><p>For a wild moment Ben was awash with guilt and shame--Han must've been consoling Rey upon hearing Ben's moans as he jerked off in the room next door. Ben causes problems wherever he goes, of course he would traumatize his adopted little sister, <em>of course</em>.</p><p>But then a negling dawn of understanding broke across his body. It blossomed in his stomach, a simultaneous rising of bile and a sensation of the floor giving out beneath him. The thoughts were too incoherent to name, too blurred to make sense of: Ben knew only that something nefarious had occurred, he'd erringly stumbled witness to it, and his panic marred by shame brought on by the whisper of blood rushing south.</p><p>He stood alone in the hallway a long moment, hardly able to hear above the thudding of his heart--so strong his stomach protested with waves of nausea. He felt frozen, struck dumb and cold, like he was standing astride himself in a different timeline. His mind rushed through different scenarios, like fingers gripping a muddy cliff, looking for purchase, scrambling to make the answer anything but what his stomach already confirmed.</p><p>He knew, <em>he knew</em>, and yet he needed to prove his stomach wrong, needed something concrete, a task, a goal, before the nausea overtook him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mind tags!<br/>Things escalate from here</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Her door opened without protest. Distantly Ben wondered if Han saw to that, imagined Han grumbling to Leia in passing as he oiled the hinges and tightened the screws like a dutiful husband instead of--</p><p>Whatever monster he was. Ben wouldn't name it.<br/><br/>As Ben stood at the threshold of his little sister's room fighting the arousal that strained his pants, he recognized that he too would inherit that name. Monster was a fine enough substitution.</p><p>He leaned his head in, peering toward the direction of Rey's bed, grateful his eyes were well-adjusted to the dark already.</p><p>She appeared to be asleep, her breathing deep and even. The evidence of her disturbance was subtle: the way her sheets lay askew, her nightgown hitched over her hip, caught haphazardly in the band of her panties, like they were tugged up in haste.</p><p>Ben squinted, noting the way her panties looked darker between her thighs, like the material was wet and clinging to her folds.The shock of it hit him hard, sending him rocking back on his heels, reeling to get out of her room as quietly as he could manage over the pounding of his heart.</p><p>He was going to be sick, he could feel it.He found himself retching over the toilet, the bathroom door closed and locked but the lights remained off. He fought down sobs, hiccuping between deep breaths while he rubbed the heels of his hands harshly against his eyes. Stars blossomed across his vision as his stomach settled.</p><hr/><p>4:09 shone harshly in the still of Ben's room, the red glow illuminating the now-cooling cum pooled along his belly. He'd orgasmed to the memory of Rey's wet panties stuck between her thighs. </p><p>He plucked a handful of tissues from their box, scrubbed the tears from his cheeks, and proceeded to clean himself up. He was resolved: he would stop Han. He just needed a plan.</p><hr/><p>The day passed and night spilled across the house. Ben managed to get through the day as if he weren't immensely weighed down with this secret. His conscience piped up, concerned--it shouldn't be easy to push the feelings into so tight a ball that they condense, an imploding star that pulls all other thoughts down into its depths. He had to remind himself that he wasn't the one that crept like a demon in the dark.</p><p> </p><p>His sat with his back against his bedroom door, waiting for the sound of Han's feet quietly making way to Rey's room. It took hours. He didn't have a plan beyond somehow confronting his father.</p><p>His pulse pounded, making him strain to hear against the door. More than once he pushed the waist of his pajama bottoms down low enough to stoke his cock--languid, long pumps to take the edge off. Just adrenaline, he told himself, too nauseous with anticipation to make himself come.</p><p> </p><p>There--just there--he heard it, a shuffle of socks over carpet, the small click of a doorknob unlatching.</p><p> </p><p>Ben froze.</p><p> </p><p>He'd been prepared to block Han's door, point fingers accusingly in his face, anything to channel this raw, animalistic energy.</p><p> </p><p>But no--here he sat, blood draining from his face, unblinking. A statue of remorse and guilt.</p><p> </p><p>Minutes passed.</p><p> </p><p>He lost feeling in his ass and legs but still couldn't bear to move, couldn't bear to face what laid outside the door of his room. His eyes filled with water until it toppled over the lids, spilling lines of weakness down his face. His breath turned shallow and quick. His chest hurt. Maybe he'd die like this, right here. That might be better than living with himself for doing nothing.</p><p> </p><p>An impulse, like an electric spark, had him standing upright before he recognized the motion. Quietly he swung open his door and padded to her room. He'd stop this. He had to. </p><p>He pressed an ear to her door and heard nothing. Like being lost in a terrible recurring dream, he gripped the knob and opened her door--to find her sleeping, alone, sheets crumpled and nightie caught at her waist.</p><p> </p><p>He let out a shaky breath. He'd failed. Why did he feel a surge of relief when he'd failed? And yet for the first time in hours he felt his shoulders drop and his chest stop aching.</p><p> </p><p>He stood a long moment, watching the rise and fall of Rey's body as she breathed. Her hair was in her messy buns, frizzed with sleep.</p><p> </p><p>He brought himself to perch on the edge of her small bed. Again he could see the damp underwear, dark and stuck to her. His cock twitched with interest.</p><p> </p><p>He let his fingers run along his length over the outside of his pants. Just to take the edge off. He was so hard it nearly hurt, the throbbing an insistent demand. </p><p>He stared at the apex of her legs, equal parts horror-struck and aroused. Gingerly he raised his hand to her exposed thigh, letting the pad of his middle finger trace a line up to the hem of her panties. He watched her face, her chest for a sign of her stirring awake. None came. </p><p>Emboldened, he let another finger join on the descent back down. Her skin was smooth and warm, toned but soft. He continued to add fingers until his whole hand worked to map her legs, her hip. He skimmed the fanfic of her underwear with each passing, still watching her face. Her breathing remained even with sleep.</p><p>Another rush of impulsive had him shake her--a gentle nudging of her hips, just to see if she'd wake. Still, nothing. The surge was followed by a spark of anger--she shouldn't be so hard to wake. He jostled her harder, harder still, until there was no doubt left in his mind. The anger slipped into a pool of dark dread. She was drugged. That's how Han managed to get away with this.</p><p> </p><p>He stilled a while, both hands resting on her thighs. Rey sighed, shifting in sleep, a knee moving up enough on the mattress that she was fully visible to him. His fingers squeezed at her thighs but she was settled, comfortable in her drugged slumber.</p><p> </p><p>And it was like that--he found his fingers wrapped at the waist of her underwear, see-sawing them down her legs--watching the action as if he were a distant observer, removed from his body. He'd never seen anyone of the opposite sex naked in person before. He took her in, the pink of her folds, the gentle lines of her ass, the smell of her. Well, maybe not just her. He cupped her, feeling the sticky-slickness of what was surely not her own arousal.</p><p>Again anger flooded him, colored brightly with a hue of jealousy and a douse of wanting to claim. This was his sister. He loved her like no one else. And yet it wasn't his come she slept in.</p><p>“He hasn't fucked you yet, huh?" He whispered to no one. A flame of embarrassment licked at his face but he was too turned on by the idea that Han might hear this to stop.</p><p>And lost in that haze, that distant part of himself watched on as he ran his fingers through her folds. He found her clit, gave a few testing rubs, and still she didn't respond. Exploring, he ran his fingers higher, prodding at her hole. She was a little slick--this he knew to be hers--and his fingers met resistance. He settled on feeling grateful about this. He would be her first. Just as it should be. But not today, not when she wasn't even awake to know who was taking her. </p><p>"Not yet," he sighed, wistful. "I want you to know who's fucking this pussy."</p><p>Instead, he propped himself up on his knees behind her, his pants half down his thighs, as he jerked himself off. He let the head of his cock rest at her entrance. The heat of her against him made him fight the drive to surge forward, to press in. He grit his teeth, letting his hand be enough as pumped and rubbed at her wetness.</p><p>"You feel so good," he breathed, the sound barely audible to himself.</p><p>"Tell me you like my cock better." He grit his teeth harder at this thought, of the words coming out of her mouth. </p><p>“Tell me you like your brother's dick more than your daddy's."</p><p>And that was enough--he had been working himself for what must be hours now. He let himself spill at her entrance, her folds ridiculously slippery as his cum pooled before running down her mound to drip on the sheets.</p><p>He sat back on his heels, admiring the mess. His mess. He liked that she was dripping with him, that he'd covered any trace of his father. She was his, and he'd be sure that no one took her from him again</p>
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